


hate and rage are a double edged blade

by cesium (burningjackets)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 01:59:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningjackets/pseuds/cesium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where are you from, Kerry Shawcross?" The instructor yelled back, back ramrod straight, arms crossed across his broad chest.</p>
<p>"Trost, sir!" Kerry shouted, and Michael felt his eyebrows furrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hate and rage are a double edged blade

**Author's Note:**

> Attack on Titan. Achievement Hunter. Two greats, finally brought together.  
> I will try to update every few days!

The sun was heavy on Michael's shoulders.

His uniform was plastered to his back with sweat, and his hair kept bouncing in front of his eyes, interrupting his view of the sea of uniforms in front of him. He threw his head back to get rid of the annoying curl and stared forward, his hand curled into a ball over his heart.

The instructor wandered down the rows of new trainees, squinting his eyes at every one. Scrutinizing for weaknesses or too much bravado.

"You!" The instructor whipped toward a slightly hunched boy, just a few rows in front of Michael. The boy shrank instantly.

"Yes sir!" The boy called back forcefully, even though his shoulders were shaking. Michael felt a pang of pity for him.

"Name!" The instructor's voice rang out over the courtyard, reverberating off the small buildings around them.

The boy's voice wavered as he shouted out, "Kerry Shawcross!"

Michael moved his head incrementally to share a look with Ray. He was two people away on his left, but he managed to smirk back.

"Where are you from, Kerry Shawcross?" The instructor yelled back, back ramrod straight, arms crossed across his broad chest.

"Trost, sir!" Kerry shouted, and Michael felt his eyebrows furrow.

"Ah," The instructor said, the morning sunshine glinting off his badges as he moved back, surveying the whole squad. The birds chirping in the trees beside the camp was the only sound.

"And why are you here, Shawcross?" The instructor asked loudly, causing the poor boy to jump again.

"I am here to serve humanity on the quest to defeat the Titans!" Kerry recited, like he had memorized a passage in a book.

The instructor nodded, and a another drop of sweat slithered down Michael's spine. He noticed a few higher-ups making their rounds around them, talking in hushed tones, and resisted the urge to stare.

"Titan food. You are nothing but Titan food, you worthless scum," The instructor yelled, and Kerry, for his benefit, held strong, yelling back a "Yes, sir!" at every pause in the instructor's spiel.

The instructor ran out of breath, and finally turned away from Kerry, puffing slightly. "Row three, about face!" He yelled, walking down the lines again, and Kerry's shoulders sagged in relief.

Michael's glasses began to slid down his nose, and he waited until the instructor was yelling at a new trainee, a young man named Miles with a stuttering problem from Hermiha District, to fix them. Ray noticed, and stuck out his tongue at him.

"You're scum, Luna!" The instructor started again, mercilessly. Luna had been decimated by the instructor's constant yelling, and was quivering slightly.

"Row four, about face!" He yelled, reaching his hand out and forcefully turning Miles' head around, and Michael smiled triumphantly. Just two more rows to go. He was rehearsing what he'd say to that instructor over and over in his head. Michael Jones. Shiganshina. I want to exterminate the Titan race.

Someone groaned quietly in the row ahead of him, and Michael snapped his eyes to the offender.

A gangly blonde guy was slouching by the end of his row, his salute almost an insult. The instructor didn't miss this either, because he trudged straight for him.

"Soldier!" The instructor yelled, right in the blonde's face. The blonde looked unimpressed. "Name!"

"Gavin Free, sir," The blonde said back, nonchalant. He was British, which was sort of rare. The British people usually stayed in Wall Sina, protected by the Military Police.

"Why is your salute completelyhorseshit, Free? Do you not care about humanity and your fellow comrades?" The instructor thundered, and Gavin barely blinked, his fist sagging lower down his chest.

"Bloody can't be bothered, sir!" Gavin yelled back, mocking him. Michael felt himself get even hotter under the collar. Who does this idiot think he is? Michael glanced at Ray, and he saw the tendon in his cheek jumping as Ray gnashed his teeth together. If Ray was angry, this guy was going to have it later.

"Why the fuck are you here, trainee? To piss everyone off?" The instructor blasted, and Gavin blanched a little bit before defaulting back to arrogance.

"To get into the Military Police, sir, and not risk my ass out here!" Gavin smiled, and the instructor fumed.

"Get your ass on the field, Free. Run until you fuckin' drop, no food until dinner. Titans are too good for your sorry ass, you miserable piece of shit," The instructor said, pointing to the field around them. Gavin shrugged and waved at the rest of the trainees, taking off in a slow jog down his row.

Michael wanted to punch this bastard. His hands trembled in pure, unadulterated rage. How dare he sign up for the corps to live on his fat ass while humanity is on the brink of total extinction?

Ray was clenching and unclenching his fist. Gavin fuckin' Free didn't have to sleep in a cramped basement with ten other kids while he waited until he was the intake age for the Corps.

When the instructor passed by him and Ray, they got a single look and nothing else. No yell, no insults.

Michael puffed out his chest, and eyed Gavin at the edge of the field, running slowly already,

Good fucking riddance, Michael thought, and smiled. 

"Is he still running out there?" Michael mumbled to Ray.

Ray shrugged. Michael strained to see the slow-moving figure still stumbling around the field. The moon shed a little light, but not much.

"That fucking jackass deserves it," Ray said, and Michael nodded in agreement. He crossed his arms, and leaned back against the cabins.

"Do you two know that guy?" Someone asked, and Michael and Ray swiveled their heads to look at whoever just spoke.

It was a younger guy they'd seen around. He and a group of other trainees were on the other side of the deck Michael and Ray were standing on. The other trainees talked loudly while fervently glancing at Michael and Ray.

"Why?" Ray shot back, and the younger guy shrugged.

"You made a pretty big deal about him, so I just assumed," He shrugged, waiting for a real answer to his question.

"Nah. He's just a Wall Sina asshole. He's probably never even seen a Titan with his own eyes," Ray snapped, his jaw muscles growing taunt in his cheek.

The younger man sniggered. "What, and like you assholes have?"

Michael's nerves snapped. He turned around and slammed the younger man into the wall of the cabin, shaking it to its foundation. The younger trainee started apologizing fervently, while Michael tightened his grip slowly.

Ray was right by his side. It was very quiet in the courtyard then.

"Five years ago. You remember? Big-ass Titan destroying Wall Maria? Do you have the mental capacity to think, "Huh, maybe someone lived in Shiganshina before it was destroyed?" Not everyone lives in a fuckin' castle," Michael growled, his hot breaths apparent in the cool night air, and the younger man squirmed under his white knuckled hands.

"You still got your parents?" Ray asked quietly. The younger man looked past Michael, and up at Ray, with big brown eyes.

"Thought so," Ray said, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Beat it, asshole."

Michael reluctantly loosened his grip, and the trainee shook himself out of it, running toward the group of trainees at the other side of the deck.

Louder than the comforting coos of "Brandon, are alright?" was the sound of the dinner bell, loud and echoing. Ray put his hand on Michael's shoulder, and Michael leaned into it heavily. They nodded at each other, and went silently to the dinner hall, the other trainee's eyes glued to their backs with a mix of resentment and astonishment.

Sometimes, Michael thought as he massaged his aching palm while Ray lead them to the brightly lit dining hall, I wish the Titans had eaten me too.


End file.
